arked involuntarily, "I'd like to see the thing turn
over. Could it be arranged?--at our expense of course," he added.

Clark nodded to the superintendent, who was close behind, and presently
the day watchmen were twisting at the turbine gate wheels. A soft
tremor ran through the building, growing steadily to a deep, hoarse
rumble as the massive grindstones revolved faster. The floor vibrated
in a quick rhythm, and in a few seconds came the full drone of
work--that profound and elemental note of nature when she toils at the
behest of man.

The faintest flicker of light stirred in the blue English eyes.
Ardswell had been walking from turbine to turbine. "Ripping!" he said.
"You might shut down now."

The titans dropped one by one into slumber. When the last vibration
was stilled, he looked up with a new respect. "We might go ahead if
you don't mind."

"Take a quarter of an hour first, and follow me."

They struck southward, and the Englishmen heard the boom of the rapids
deepen till they came to the edge of the river at Clark's observation
point. There was a strong easterly wind, and it caught at the snowy
crests of the bigger waves, spinning them out like silver manes of
leaping horses. These flashed in the sunlight, till, over the central
ridge of water, the air was full of a fine, misty spray that hung
palpitating and luminous. Here was a torrential life--born of the
endless and icy leagues of Lake Superior.

The two strangers stared fascinated, and as Clark watched them he
perceived that once more the ageless voice of the rapids was speaking
to human ears, just as it had spoken to his own so many times--and
years before. He waited patiently, while the river lifted its
elemental message, and saw the color rise in English cheeks and the
cold, blue English eyes begin to sparkle again. What were the drab
records of Birch's ledgers, or even the monumental pile of nearby
buildings, compared to this impetuous slogan? He stood silently,
plunged in the psychology of the moment.

"How much power--total I mean?" said Ardswell presently, pointing to
the ripping flood.

"Two hundred and forty thousand horsepower, at a minimum."

"By George!"

Silence fell again, till Weatherby, shaking the spray from his rough
tweed coat, got up a little stiffly.

"I begin to understand a little better now," he said slowly with an
eloquent glance.

The car was waiting for them by the little lock--and here at the block